


In House Research

by mautadite



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/F, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22680913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mautadite/pseuds/mautadite
Summary: “Oh, you’re talking about the rock-licking thing, aren’t you?” Sara mock-sighs, shaking her head. “I could lick a rock. I could lick ten rocks.”
Relationships: Suvi Anwar/Female Ryder | Sara
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	In House Research

**Author's Note:**

> I was going through my fic folder when I noticed this: a fic I’d written in 2017, just after Andromeda came out, before I’d even completed the game. I think I wrote it for some pals on the Bioware forums, and just forgot to post it here? It holds up, and I still love this ship so: enjoy!

It’s been a few hours off, but Sara still feels the weight of her armour across her shoulders, along her thighs, running along her spine with a phantom mass that pulls at her bones. She gives herself a little shake, stretching her arms over her head as she walks. Just her imagination of course, a little trick of the mind that she’s becoming all too used to. Dad, being the Pathfinder, everything that’s happened since they hurtled into Andromeda and into this mess… it feels like a heavy cloak around her shoulders, a burden she can’t quite shake off.

That last mission had been murder. A small army of kett, two nomad crashes and the worst sandstorm that Sara’d ever been in. An easy feat, that, seeing as it’s the _only_ sandstorm she’s ever been in, but she still feels confident in giving it a solid eight-point-seven on the ‘crap I don’t ever want to go through again’ scale. Most of the sand had come out in the decontamination chamber, but some of it lingers like a film over her arms and cheeks. She’s dying for a shower.

That will come later. For now, she’s making one of her customary ships runs, checking up on the squad and the crew of the Tempest. _Stay grounded._ One of the first lessons she’d ever learnt from her father, and one she takes to heart. They’ve got an insurmountable task ahead of them and there’s no way she’s going to get it done without each and every one of her guys. It’s a motley crew for sure, but they’ve been coming together more and more after each mission, new stars twinkling into life in the dark canopy of the sky. Together, they can do this.

And so Sara makes sure she knows them. She’ll have a periodic beer with Liam, help him run through movie options of varying terribleness. She works out with Cora, slowly easing out the tension that had initially built up between them (and one day, she’s going to have to teach Sara how she manages to hold her squats for that long because _Jesus_ ). Jaal’s still a mystery, but she loves his enthusiasm, the way he’ll interrupt her babbling to ask a question or babble about something else entirely. She trades war stories with Drack (or rather, listens in awe to his own),talks shop with Gil in between teasing him relentlessly about the obvious way he’s been making eyes at her little bro. Vetra she’s had no trouble opening up to; Peebee’s a little trickier, but Sara looks forward to pulling back her layers, getting some real answers out of her. A quick, dry remark from Kallo never fails to bring a smile to her face, and she always makes time to be scolded a little by Dr. Lexi.

And as for Suvi…

Sara pauses outside the lab, checks her face in the nearest reflective surface. Woefully, it’s kind of a mess: hair slipping out of its ponytail, dirt smudges galore, a bruise on her check from where a kett shotgun blast had knocked her back mid-biotic charge. All in all, it doesn’t make for a very flattering look. But unlike most other crushes she’s had, she doesn’t feel tempted to run back to her quarters, make herself presentable, get dolled up or anything. Sara’s fine with Suvi seeing her like this: raw, battered, tired. Unapologetically herself.

She bites her lip as she looks into the glass, and does do herself the favour of pulling her hair back into a messy bun. Suvi hadn’t been up on the bridge, so she’s undoubtedly within the sleek walls of the lab. If Sara’s honest with herself, she much prefers talking to her down here. Suvi is… she’s…

Chuckling to herself, Sara rubs the back of her neck. That’s the thing isn’t it? There’s no concise way of summing up their resident science officer in a few words; no simple way of reducing her to a phrase that tells all. If Suvi ever writes the book that Sara’s sure she has in her, her publishers are going to have a heck of a time _about the author_ ¬-ing this Scotswoman. And Sara loves that. She loves that she’s weird, and really intense, and makes silly jokes, and will stand with Sara on deck for the longest time discussing her faith or a cluster of stars, and she’s pretty, and so damned smart, and—

“Were you going to stand there all night, Ryder?”

—and she’s opening the door to the lab, staring at Sara quizzically, yet pleasantly. Of course.

“Ah…”

“I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to,” Suvi continues, shoulder on the door jamb. “I could keep you company while you stared at a fuzzy glass wall.”

Sara laughs, her self-consciousness seeping away.

“I’m just making my rounds. If it’s okay with you, I’ll come in.”

“It’s always okay with me, Ryder,” Suvi says, and widens the door for her. Sara slips in, trying to ignore how much she loves the way Suvi says her name; the things that accent does to vowels should be criminal. They’re _vowels_. They shouldn’t be sexy.

Suvi heads back to her desk; Sara perches casually on the arm-rest of the opposite chair. The desk is a pleasant mess; Suvi swipes away her screens, but that still leaves a plethora of notes, datapads and samples strewn over the surface. Working on another report, no doubt. Sara looks forward to it; after the first one, she’d caught up with Suvi on the bridge with armed with facts and granola bars, and they’d chatted about it for an hour. 

“I guess that storm really was as bad as it sounded, hm?” Suvi asks, looking up at her through her fringe.

“Yeah,” Sara chuckles, rubbing her neck again. “I’m not sure who had it out for me more: the kett or the sands.”

“Without your armour, the winds and sands would have flayed your skin right off your flesh,” Suvi says, ever pragmatic, neatening a sheaf of papers. “I’m sure the death the kett had in mind for you was far quicker.”

Sara grins.

“You know Suvi, you do have a point. I guess I’ll count myself lucky that I bested the both of them.”

“Lucky? Don’t sell yourself short. I’m certain at least twenty per cent skill was involved in the whole endeavour.”

Suvi has a strange way of being cheeky; her delivery is as straightforward and deadpan as anything. But Sara’s come to know her well enough in the past couple of months that she waits, and is rewarded with a little wink. Butterflies start to riot in her stomach.

“Ouch,” she says in rebuttal, scrunching up her nose at her friend. “Should I go see Lexi for that devastating burn?”

“If you think it necessary.” Suvi’s still smiling, but her hands fidget a little with the papers that she’s organising. “You… you _are_ all right though, aren’t you?”

“Oh, ah, yeah.” Suvi registering concern for her shouldn’t come as a surprise, they’ve been friends for a while now. But the heat’s rushing to her face anyway. “I actually _did_ go see Lexi already; she wagged her little blue finger at me to her heart’s content and pronounced me well. The worst of it’s the sand in my helmet and clothes.”

Suvi hums, clasping her hands together after giving Sara one last look.

“I suppose we can cross Kathdin off our list of potential worlds.”

“Well, nothing tried to eat me down there, which puts it a step above Ranalu. But yeah, not golden so much as silver. Bronze. Polished brass at a stretch.”

Sara clears her throat and chuckles, making herself stop before she starts off rambling again. That’s another pleasant, and all too unique part of this crush; she doesn’t find herself clamming up around Suvi like she does around other women.

“That’s a pity,” Suvi says. “I had looked forward to cataloguing some of its flora and geological eccentricities.”

“Hey, there’s always a chance,” Sara offers. “An excavation isn’t out of the question. I could be your research assistant.”

Suvi giggles, spots of red blooming in her cheeks, and it’s unfair how mesmerising it is.

“Are you sure you’d be up to the task?”

“Oh, you’re talking about the rock-licking thing, aren’t you?” Sara mock-sighs, shaking her head. “I could lick a rock. I could lick ten rocks.”

“I’m certain you could.”

And now it’s Sara’s turn to blush, at the tiny hint of suggestion in Suvi’s voice. She watches as the science officer gets up from her seat, rounds the tale and perches on edge of the desk. They’re very close now, and Suvi’s eyes are shifting between blue and grey.

“Ryder, I…”

Sara feels like there’s a frog stuck in her throat. “Yeah?”

“I… nothing.” Suvi laughs softly, in the absent way she does sometimes. “I’m just gladder every day, you know? That I made the decision to come to Andromeda.”

The way she says it is very matter-of-fact, but incredibly heartfelt at the same time. She rests her hand on the armrest where Sara leans, and they aren’t quite touching, but it’s close enough that Sara swears she can almost feel it. Goosebumps are tap-dancing up her arm.

“I’m glad too,” she says softly, and means it, despite all the wild shit this galaxy has thrown at them.

Suvi is looking at her, very carefully, in a way that Sara doesn’t quite know how to parse. She returns the look because she can’t _not_ , and is in awe once more at how comfortable this feels. Her friendship with Suvi has never been anything but that. The moment swells, like the music in those dramatic shows her mother used to love, as if something is about to happen.

Suvi inches closer.

“May I?” she asks in a husky voice, and Sara doesn’t hesitate a single second before nodding. Her heart pounds, sounding louder in her ears than the purr of the Nomad’s engine, and all she can do is watch, tension high, emotions wrung out but absolutely _thrilled_ , as Suvi moves closer, and closer, and…

…licks a patch of dirt on her cheek.

It’s a very quick swipe, just a touch of wetness on her skin. By the time she reaches up to touch the spot in bewilderment, Suvi is already leaving away, mischief rampant on her face.

“What…” Sara sputters. 

“Kaolinite, I think,” Suvi says, wrinkling her nose, “though it’s difficult to distinguish with all the other conflicting tastes.”

Sara stares at her for another second, before breaking out into chuckles, shoving gently at her shoulder. 

“Oh my _god_ , Suvi.”

“Sorry,” she says, giggling and not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn’t resist.”

“I thought that you were asking to…” Sara trails off, and laughs again. Suvi joins her, and it’s such a bizarre, freeing moment, to sit here laughing after her crush has just used her as an oversized sample rock. And it’s amazing, honestly, hearing Suvi laugh. It’s not something that she recalls her doing all that often. With a little skip of her heart, Sara supposes that _she_ is part of that equation. She makes Suvi laugh.

“I was, you know,” Suvi says when their laughter dies away. Her eyes are bright with humour, but there’s a shine of nervousness there too. “Also going to ask you to…”

Sara smiles, ducking her head, then glancing back up. “Were you now.”

“Yes,” Suvi replies simply. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Ryder—” And there it is again, her name in that mouth, giving her shivers. “—but… I like you.” 

And yeah, maybe she’s noticed, but hearing it is quite another thing altogether. Apprehension and happiness flutter together in her stomach as she looks at her friend: her messy hair, her piercing eyes. There’s one more thing about Suvi that’s utterly unique: everything.

“Ditto,” Sara says, and cups Suvi by the cheek, leaning forward to press their lips together, at last.


End file.
